Questions
by Synbu
Summary: What is more horrid than having one's love life examined by a 15 year old girl? Well, having it examined in a restaurant with no one to help you of course! Jin ficcy. NO FLAMES!


A/N: Yes, indeed, it is us once more! We are now embarking upon the loverly task of torturing Jin with various inauspicious things! However, we do not own Jin or Fuu or Samurai Champloo in any way whatsoever. Yeah, yeah, blalbalala…  
Oh, R&R please! No flames or Syn will most certainly push you down the Stairway to Heaven.

Questions

Aki, Jin thought later, would be forever remembered as being a place that is best avoided. Or, at least, the restaurant at the end of the main street. Some memories are best locked away in a chest that is thrown off the edge of the boat over the depths of the darkest abyss of Tartarus. It all would not have been a horrible stain on the fabric of Jin's sanity and tolerance if only he'd gone job hunting rather than consenting to eat lunch with Fuu. Why, oh why hadn't he given Mugen that task?  
Oh yes. He was off doing…whatever he does all day, Jin reasoned. Of course, it was absolutely none of his business.  
But he could still blame that filthy, boorish and overly hairy man that he was forced to travel with. Yeah…nothing wrong with some honest blame here and there.

However…blaming the Thing- that- Smells would not erase the memory.

Jin sighed, blowing out a lungful of air that could only be described as woeful. How innocent she'd been, eating her Udon noodles like the little glutton she was; at that point in time, Jin might have called her the tiniest bit cute. This, upon later reflection, was a thought that rang of doom. He must have been staring at her or something (in his defense, he was staring at the menu behind her) because something caused her to stop her eating and set down her bowl.  
"Jin," came the small voice, a hint of shyness in the tone. Jin flicked his eyes over to where she sat.

"Mmm," he replied, the smallest lilt on the end inferring the question in his answer. She lowered her eyes demurely at that point in time, studying the table quickly, as if all her evil plans could not be carried out without it. Jin, after leaving that pit of Hell that masqueraded as a restaurant, knew that he should have run for the hills and left Fuu to consult her Table of Absolute and Utter Evil.

She raised her eyes to his.

"…What's your favorite color?" Jin felt himself stop eating at this, considering that this actually _did _require some thought. After a moment, Jin shrugged and, thinking 'what harm could it do?', replied, " Yellow." Fuu gave a small giggle of disbelief.

"Really? I mean, why don't you wear it, then?" Jin shifted slightly, wanting to get back to the somewhat important task of eating.

"It does not suit me." Fuu cocked her head to the side, rather like a parrot gazing at a worm it's about to eat.

"Well then, why do you like it?" Jin felt himself twitch, lowering the bowl once more to the table.

"I do not know. Perhaps you could tell me why you like…that color that you're wearing." She shrugged.

"Dunno. I mean, it's pretty and all…it's warm and cozy." Jin pondered here, for the smallest second, how a color could possibly give off heat. A few bites of rice and eel later, Fuu lowered her bowl again.

"Jin?" Once again, Jin lowered his bowl, trying not to sigh in exasperation.

"Yes?"

"Where did you get your swords?" Oh, well, this one was easy to answer. Jin smiled slightly- ah, how he should have known this was the one that would lead him to his doom.

"In the dojo. They were my father's, and so I inherited them when he passed on. You see, a man-"

"Did you ever have a girlfriend, Jin? I mean, when you were little. Well, not little, little, but y'know like my age?" Jin twitched at that. Not only was he being interrupted in one of his explanations of the world of men, but he was being asked about something that he truly would not have liked to have talked about.

"Well…one…kind of…" he felt himself offer grudgingly, trying to banish Yuriko from his mind.

"Did you like her?"

"…obviously so…now…swords…"

"Did you kiss her?"

"…what?"

"Feel her up?"

"……"

On this last question, Jin perceived that there were some sorts of things that need not be heard by certain 15-year-old girls who might have a somewhat strange interest in him. Fuu smiled brightly and began to tuck into her food once more. Jin poked at his food, trying to remember how hungry he was, and how it was not a good idea to shove a bag over Fuu's head.

The bowl belonging to Fuu dropped to the table a third time.  
"Jin?" Later, Jin knew that there were certain times when fleeing the battle was absolutely necessary.

"Mm?"

Silence for a minute.

"Did you ever…do it?"

Jin choked on the remaining rice clinging to his tongue.

"…what?"

"Was it all right? I mean, did you like it?"

"…er…"

"Do you like…you know…make noises?"

"….." At this point, Jin became aware that nearly half the restaurant was listening in. This was one of the situations in which Jin deemed the phrase, 'holy shit' very applicable.

"Did you-"

"Let's go. I- I think I heard someone say 'sunflowers.'"

"Really!"  
Fuu sprang up and charged out the door, knocking over several people as she ran. Jin laid down 10 monme for their lunch, hoping that he would never have to show his face in this town ever again.

Some questions, he thought, are best left unanswered.

- Fin!


End file.
